Monday, May 8, 2017

Stranger Things - One Act Play (Dramatic scene assignment)

A park bench along a pathway. A lamppost and trash bin at stage right of
bench. Green grass, trees and shrubbery behind the scene against a backdrop of
city scape/tall buildings. Blue sky, warm spring day. A young woman is sitting
on stage right of the bench, reading a book.

A man enters from stage left and walks toward the bench.

MAN: (gesturing to the
empty space on the bench) Mind if I sit down?

WOMAN: (looks up from
her book briefly) No, go ahead.

MAN: (sits and
stretches out a bit) Perfect day, right?

WOMAN: (doesn’t look up
from her book but rolls her eyes, doesn’t want to talk) Mmm-hmm

MAN: (ignoring her
annoyance) My favorite season, Spring. All the fresh air and people walking
about.

WOMAN: (adjusts in her
seat, keeps reading)

MAN: (glances around
for a bit, lights a cigarette)

WOMAN: (notices the
smell of the smoke and looks up irritated) I’m sorry, do you mind?

MAN: (confused)
What? Oh, would you like one? (offers her
the pack)

WOMAN: No I don’t. And I’d appreciate you not smoking either.
I don’t like the smell.

MAN: (doesn’t put out
the cigarette) Yeah, it’s an unfortunate side effect. I suppose I’ve gotten
used

to it to some degree. They say that happens you know. (takes another drag but blows it the opposite
direction)

WOMAN: (annoyed, closes
her book and gathers her things to leave)

MAN: (notices the book
cover) Hey! Thistles in the Darkness. Good read. What part are you on?

WOMAN: (puts her hand
up to silence him) No! Please don’t say anything else! I want to read it
for

myself. (sits back down on the bench)

MAN: (chuckling, takes
another drag off the cigarette) I won’t spoil it for you. It’s worth
finding out on your own.

WOMAN: (eyeing the man
a little more closely now) It seems like an odd choice of book for a guy…

MAN: (speaking with the
cigarette pursed in between his lips and reaching into his pocket) Hey,

there are no rules anymore. If girls can go to war, why can’t dudes enjoy the
occasional historical love story?

WOMAN: To each his own I suppose.

MAN: (hands woman a
card) I’m just kidding with you. I’m not typically into romance novels. I
write reviews for a literary publication, but I’m not that good so I have to
read whatever crap comes across my desk. (chuckles)
Most of it makes me want to staple my eyelids shut, but occasionally something
worthwhile comes my way.

WOMAN: (takes his card,
looks at it and sticks it inside the book) Well, thanks for the tip. It’s
not always clear which books might give you the urge to self-harm. (sarcastically)

MAN: (chuckles) Very
true. Do me a favor. If you do feel the urge, use the card. I can talk you down
off the ledge.

WOMAN: (smiles)
Good to know, thanks.

MAN: So, what do you do? No, wait. Let me guess. I have an
uncanny knack for people and professions. (puts
out cigarette and turns towards woman on the bench) Reading on a park bench
in the middle of the afternoon on a weekday…casually dressed…comfortable
shoes…Ah! Got it! Dog walker.

WOMAN: (laughs) Nice
try, but you’re missing one crucial piece of the puzzle there. Do you see a dog
anywhere? I’d be the worst dog walker in the entire city if that were the case.

WOMAN: (laughs harder)
Oh boy. I would strongly suggest you do not quit your day job. Not even close!

MAN: (sighs) I
guess I’m having an off day. Ok, I give up. What’s your story?

WOMAN: (turns her knees
towards him in conversation) I’m a student, actually. Finishing up my Master’s
in social work. I don’t normally have manicured nails. I just came from a
place. It’s, um, my birthday today actually.

LEAH: (chuckles) I
don’t normally sit on park benches either. (more
seriously) I was supposed to meet my husband for lunch but it appears he
has been otherwise disposed. I was just killing time.

PAUL: And what is it that your husband does?

LEAH: Good question! (laughs)
No, he’s in finance. He works downtown, but with the current economy, there is
no such thing as a normal 9 to 5 anymore.

PAUL: Ah, yeah. That makes sense. (stretches out and lights another cigarette) Well, his loss is my
gain.

LEAH: (smiles at his
complement in spite of herself)

PAUL: So, how long you been married?

LEAH: Uh, about nine years.

PAUL: (whistles) That’s
a long time. You must be happy.

LEAH: (uncomfortable,
shifts slightly in her seat) It’s not that long, but yeah, I suppose we are
happy.

PAUL: Well, don’t sound so convincing. People might think
you’re not telling the truth. (winks,
takes another drag off the cigarette)

LEAH: (offended)
That was rude. You don’t know me.

PAUL: I didn’t mean any offense. I’m sorry. I’m sure you are
happy. I…was just thinking what a shame it is that you’re alone on your
birthday. I can’t imagine what could possibly keep me away from spending a
beautiful day with a beautiful woman is all.

LEAH: (considers
leaving but stays put) No. You’re right. I’m sorry. I was wondering the
same thing actually. Well, not the beautiful woman part, but the other part
about not showing up. The first birthday I had after we got married, he rented
a little house on the lake for a weekend. I’m not even sure when the last time
we spent an entire day together was.

PAUL: (puffs on his
cigarette) Well, it’s a shame. I’ve only spent ten minutes with you and I
can assure you that you are quite lovely to be with. (smiles)

LEAH: (laughs) Oh
boy. So does that normally work for you? This, ‘flattery will get you
everywhere’ approach?

PAUL: It might not get me everywhere,
but I do okay. Grandma once told me, (in
an exaggerated southern accent) ‘Pauly, looks only go so far, and yours are
in short supply. You’re gonna need to figure another way in if you don’t want
to be the only one pullin’ on yer pecker.’

LEAH: (laughing) Oh
my god! That’s terrible!

PAUL: Yeah, well, classy may not have been her thing, but you
can’t say she wasn’t honest.

PAUL: Once. A long time ago. She, uh. She got cancer two
years into our marriage. Sometimes the

death in ‘til death do us part’ comes
sooner than you’d expect. (leans over his
knees, reflective, smoking)

LEAH: (leans closer
into Paul, instinctively puts had on his leg) I’m so sorry.

PAUL: (looks down at
Leah’s hand)

LEAH: (pulls hand back
sheepishly)

PAUL: (adjusts back to
his seat on the bench) It’s okay. What can you do? Like I said, it was a
lifetime ago.

LEAH: (a long pause)
Sometimes I wish my husband would die.

PAUL: (looks at Leah)

LEAH: It’s awful. I know. (runs her hands through her hair) It’s just…this is nothing like I
thought it would be. Sometimes I just want to hit the restart button on my
life. He’s a good guy. I love him. But when he canceled today, I wasn’t
terribly disappointed. (pauses,
reflecting then looks at Paul) What kind of marriage is it when you prefer
to be alone?

PAUL: (holds her gaze)

LEAH: Oh, god. I’m sorry. I can’t believe I just said that to
you! Here you are talking about your dead wife and I just blurt out the most
awful response. I should go. (gathers her
things to leave)

PAUL: (reaches out to
stop her) No! No, stay. It’s okay. (they
both settle back on the bench, Paul puts out the cigarette) My wife…I loved
her. And losing her so quickly was hard. You know, people want to believe the
best of themselves. That they are somehow immune from the terrible things or
terrible choices that happen every day. That their marriage will last. That
they will always choose the higher road. That those fairy tale fantasies from
childhood will somehow manifest into their own happy endings. And I’ve just
found that isn’t the case. Jenny never got to the acceptance part of the grief
process. She was firmly locked into anger until the moment she died. And who
could blame her? Preparing for your own death at the time when you should be
preparing for a child’s birth, that just sucks. But the thing is, the closer to
the end that she got, the angrier she became. And I don’t know if it’s because
I was there or if she resented that I was still going to have the chance to do
all the things we hoped to do together, but she was most angry at me. When
Jenny finally died, do you want to know what the first thing I felt was? (looks at Leah)

LEAH: What?

PAUL: Relief. Not sadness. Not depression. Certainly not
anger. Just relief that it was over and that I wouldn’t have to bear the brunt
of her resentment anymore.

LEAH: (leans over and
kisses Paul on the lips, pulls back, covering her mouth in shock and stares at
him for a moment) I’m, I’m, uh, sorry.

PAUL: I’m not.

LEAH: (leans back in
and they kiss again briefly, they separate and sit in silence on the bench for
several moments) I don’t know what came over me. I’ve never done anything
like that before.

PAUL: I guess all I was trying to say is that we can live in
the fantasy of how we think things should
be or how we think we should feel, or
we can live in the reality of it. The hard, brutal, often unpleasant truth that
life isn’t always what you hoped it would be and people don’t always turn out
the way you think they should be. Are
you happy? Maybe. Maybe you’re not. But you’re not really going to be able to do
anything about it unless you can answer that question honestly for yourself.

LEAH: Well, this birthday may not have gone as planned, but
it certainly will be memorable. (laughs)
I should probably get going. (gathers her
book and purse and turns toward Paul) I’m really glad to have met you Paul.
(sticks out her hand)

PAUL: (shakes her hand)
Happy Birthday Leah. It was nice to meet you too.